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Night and day the work went on. With the first signs of daylight

the dories were swung outboard and the men took their positions.

A catch of two hundred good-sized cod was now considered the

usual thing for a handliner, and night after night the piles of

silver fish in the pens amidships seemed to grow in size.

Now they dressed down under lantern light, sometimes aided by the

moon, and the men stood to the tables until they fell asleep on

their feet and split their fingers instead of the fish. Then,

after buckets of hot coffee, they would fall to again and never

stop until the last wet body had been laid atop of its thousands

of brothers.

The men were constantly on the trawls. Sometimes they did nothing

all day but pick the fish and rebait, finding, after a trip to

the schooner to unload, that a thousand others had struck on the

long lines of sagging hooks while they were gone.

It was fast and feverish work, and it seemed as though it would

never end.